The Best Places to Eat and Do in the United States

The light-filled dining room on L Street runs to earth tones and cozy corners, and the crowd skews toward people who have actual things to discuss over dinner. This is an upscale New American restaurant where the chef, a neighborhood fixture, tilts classic dishes just far enough off-axis to keep them interesting. A James Beard semifinalist and listed in the Michelin Guide, it handles a business lunch and a family celebration with equal composure.

Family recipes are the spine of the menu here, though Chef Max Wittawat dresses them up considerably. Bangkok Supper Club is a chic contemporary Thai restaurant in the West Village where the cocktail program pulls as much attention as the food, and the room has the candles-and-low-lighting energy to match. The Michelin Guide has it selected. Dishes read simple on paper and then arrive full of dramatic contrasts, which is the whole point.

Exposed brick and poured cement set a sleek, airy backdrop for traditional Thai cooking that has been quietly reworked for the contemporary table. The restaurant in Williamsburg came out swinging as a James Beard Best New Restaurant Semifinalist, and the menu earns the attention, moving through braises, curries, and fermented heat with real conviction. Dress sharp, expect to spend.

Green lacquered chairs and upholstered nooks fill this Italian restaurant tucked into Rockefeller Center, brought uptown by the team behind SoHo's King. The open kitchen and bar counter keep it lively without tipping into noisy. The menu is short and focused, leaning into good pasta and a cocktail list that includes a negroni sbagliato bianco, which sounds made up but isn't.

The San Sebastian martini, shaken with Basque pepper brine, sets the tone before you've looked at the menu. Rada is a sleek Mediterranean small-plates spot where the room feels cooler than you do but the hospitality quietly closes that gap. The compact menu shifts often and leans toward sharing, landing on the New York Times Restaurant List for 2025. Order one of the martinis first; you'll figure out the rest from there.

The brick oven sits in full view of the dining room, which at a Neapolitan-leaning pizza restaurant in Flatiron is either a statement or a dare. Audace is the kind of place where the dough does the talking: light, well-leavened, the sort that doesn't leave you horizontal by dessert. The room is calm and low-key, the service attentive without hovering. It landed on 50 Top Pizza USA and took their Best Cocktail List award, which is not a thing most pizza spots can say.

The wood-fired oven scents the whole room before you've found a seat, which is the idea. Ken's is a casual pizza spot on SE 28th where the dough ferments long and the crust lands somewhere between Neapolitan and what Portland thinks pizza should be, which turns out to be a persuasive argument. Ken Forkish runs the show, and the wine list is a step above what the no-reservations vibe might lead you to expect. It placed on 50 Top Pizza USA.

Pasquale Illiano left Naples and landed in one of Rhode Island's smaller towns, which is saying something in the smallest state in the union. The pizzeria runs the full range, Neapolitan, New York style, Grandma, and each style is treated as its own discipline rather than a casual option. The pasta dishes quietly hold their own alongside the pizza, which is not a given. Ranked fifteenth on 50 Top Pizza USA.

A Neapolitan pizzeria a short walk from Barclays Center, Pizza Secret lands at number 15 on 50 Top Pizza USA, which is not the kind of thing a slice shop does quietly. The dough is well-leavened and light, the kind that doesn't sit heavy, and the fried appetizers are worth ordering before the pie arrives. The room is renovated and family-friendly without feeling like a chain, and the service knows when to disappear.

The igloo-shaped Neapolitan oven is the anchor, but this Madison pizzeria runs a wider game than that. The chef, a Tony Gemignani protégé, turns out New York, Detroit, and by-the-slice styles alongside the Neapolitan, which is the rare pizza-school flex that actually makes sense on one menu. A wine list, beers, and cocktails round things out. It landed at number 12 on 50 Top Pizza USA, plus a special nod for its dessert list.

Dinner inside a working greenhouse, with outdoor tables ringed by citrus trees and herbs, sets the mood before a plate arrives. Poppy & Seed is a fine dining room in Anaheim's Packing District built around organic, locally sourced Southern cooking, the kind where shrimp and grits shares a menu with steak tartare brightened by pickled sea beans. A James Beard semifinalist, it draws a crowd that dresses up without overdoing it and lingers well past sunset.

The bi-level dining room turns heads before a plate arrives, all warm light and an open kitchen pulling focus. Seven Reasons is a contemporary Caribbean restaurant drawing from Venezuela, Peru, and the islands, with portions generous enough to make a point. The cooking leans bold and colorful, the kind of place where a dessert list actually earns your attention. A James Beard semifinalist for Best Chef: Mid-Atlantic.

The red-orange cushions and pale green backsplash look like someone decorated with the produce order, which makes sense for a neighborhood restaurant that works directly with local farms. Tomat does all-day, but evenings are when the kitchen gets serious about California's seasonal haul. Dishes are meant for the table to share, and the room fills accordingly. The Michelin Guide has it selected, and Esquire put it on its best new restaurants list for 2025.

Neapolitan bingo tablecloths, Napoli soccer jerseys on the walls, and an owner who never steps away from the oven: this is a Neapolitan pizza spot in Miami's MiMo District that takes its identity seriously without taking itself too seriously. The dough is well-leavened with a high, airy crust, and the cooking is precise. It ranked 11th on 50 Top Pizza USA. Note that an 18% gratuity is included by default on the bill.

The menu lists the farmers by name before it lists the dishes, which tells you everything about this Santa Monica neighborhood restaurant. The room has been around forever, and the lighting and leather booths have earned their intimacy. Market-driven New American means the cocktails change with the seasons too, a detail the bar takes seriously. The Michelin Guide has it selected, and the Los Angeles Times put it on their 101 best restaurants list.

Old Town Scottsdale runs heavy on sushi and gourmet burgers, so a candlelit Mexican restaurant with a serious tequila program reads almost as contraband. The Mission leans modern Latin rather than strictly regional, but the street tacos and bacon-wrapped hot dogs hold their own against the fancier plates. The room is dark and unhurried in a way that makes a second round of $15 cocktails feel inevitable.

The servers might greet you in Greek if you look like you belong, and on Ditmars Boulevard, plenty of people do. This no-frills Astoria taverna has been feeding the neighborhood long enough to qualify as local infrastructure, with a bustling open kitchen and a menu built around simply prepared whole fish, classic dips, and flaky spinach pie. The Michelin Guide has it listed, but the crowd at the tables wouldn't need to be told.

The outdoor bar lives inside a repurposed shipping container, which tells you something about this brewpub's sensibility. Arizona Wilderness pours a rotating slate of seasonal ales alongside house classics, and the kitchen keeps pace with oversized burgers, an Arizonan hot fried chicken sandwich, and duck fat fries that have developed their own following. The vegan options are less afterthought than actual draw. Bench seating, a beer garden, and desert weather do the rest.

The sage-green tiles and gleaming copper pans of the open kitchen are as composed as the plates coming out of it. La Mercerie is a fine dining French restaurant tucked inside Roman and Williams' SoHo emporium, and the room leans hard into its own beauty, tiny tables, delicate blooms, and a lunch crowd dressed like they have somewhere even better to be afterward. The menu runs to careful, classic indulgence: consommé, profiteroles, tarte tatin.

A pile of king crab legs on crushed ice is usually the first thing you see, and it sets the tone. Bacchanal, inside Caesars Palace, is a massive all-you-can-eat buffet running brunch through dinner with over 250 items across ten kitchens. The strategic move is to lap the room before committing a plate to anything. Shellfish, wood-fired grill, rotating global stations, and a dessert spread that suggests nobody told anyone to stop.

Dark wood, banquette seating, and lighting low enough that everyone looks like they're closing a deal. Daniel's is a steakhouse on Federal Highway that plays the genre completely straight, which turns out to be exactly what Fort Lauderdale wanted. The menu is built for sharing, so bring people. A Floridian spin on oysters Rockefeller gets things moving, the steaks are cooked with care, and the corn pudding is not optional.

Foie toast, a round of goose liver ganache on rye with a dot of strawberry preserves, sets the tone at this contemporary Japanese fine dining room in Coral Gables. The chef team behind the original has rebuilt it with a bolder personality, and the menu moves freely between tasting format and à la carte without losing its nerve. Bone marrow panna cotta and a creamsicle ice cream sandwich share real estate here, and somehow that feels earned.

Petit Coquin is a small French bistro on South Presa that does Paris with a straight face, until someone at the next table says "y'all" and the spell breaks. The menu changes often and runs prix fixe or à la carte, with the classics doing the heavy lifting: eggs with mayonnaise, lentils and sausage, a chocolate mousse. The wine list leans French and the room is tight and elegant, so dress like you made a reservation.

The cypress wood counter is the only seat that matters at this omakase spot tucked into Ross Avenue, where the format blends kaiseki composed bites with a procession of nigiri. Chef Paul Ko's cooking reads refined and quietly global, duck confit in phyllo giving way to delicate anago dusted with sansho pepper. "Kozy" is doing some heavy lifting in the name, given how sleek the room actually is, but the Michelin Guide listing is not.

The open hearth at this Middle Eastern restaurant in East Hollywood runs hot enough that you feel it from your seat, which is either thrilling or a heads-up to dress accordingly. Ori Menashe and Genevieve Gergis (of Bestia fame) built the menu around long-skewer kebabs and wood-fired bread, though the grilled lobster in green harissa suggests the kitchen has range. Getting a reservation requires patience, or luck, or both.

An L-shaped hinoki counter glows under warm, calibrated light inside this omakase room tucked into a residential tower in Bay Village. Chef Sky Zheng works in the edomae tradition, letting high-quality fish imported from Japan do the talking with minimal but precise seasoning. Three seatings run nightly, so showing up on time is less a suggestion than a rule. The Michelin Guide has selected it.

A gold-painted tin ceiling and a curved chef's counter overlooking an open kitchen set the tone at this Back Bay tasting menu spot. The menu changes on a whim, sometimes mid-week, and leans conceptual enough that not every dish lands with obvious logic. The chefs deliver the food themselves, the wine list is handwritten, and the whole operation runs loose and confident. An old-school fine dining veteran that forgot to be uptight about it.

Jordan Kahn's daytime cafe in the architecturally eccentric Hayden Tract looks like a place that takes itself very seriously, and then the food shows up and you realize it has earned the silence. The interior is stripped to near nothing, which focuses you entirely on plates that are genuinely intricate without announcing it. A morning or lunch stop, but not a casual one.

The rooftop of the Hoxton Hotel in Williamsburg, with the Manhattan skyline doing its thing at sunset, is a solid place to eat skewers. This is Michael Solomonov's skewer house, and the format is pleasantly fixed: a spread of salatim to start, then meat and vegetable skewers over the coals, then soft-serve. Reservations are famously hard to land, which tells you something about how the room fills on a Tuesday.

A row of boncuk, the blue glass amulets meant to ward off evil, lines the wall above the wood paneling at this Cambridge neighborhood restaurant, which has been pulling people in for Eastern Mediterranean and Turkish cooking longer than most of its neighbors have been open. Order broadly across the small plates menu, because the vegetables section holds its own against the fish and meat. The room is warm, the kitchen visible from the back room, and the garden fills up fast in summer.

The menu at this resort seafood restaurant runs long enough that the staff are trained to talk you off the ledge, and they do it graciously. Octopus and venison share billing with the catch, which tells you the kitchen isn't playing a strict concept. The room has the warm, unhurried feel of a place where no one is in a hurry to turn the table, and the wine list matches the menu's ambition.

A reservation here is the kind of thing West Village regulars treat as a competitive sport, so walk-ins at odd hours are the move. Rita Sodi's cozy Italian neighborhood restaurant on Bleecker changes its daily specials with the seasons while holding certain signatures hostage in the best way. The bar handles a Negroni with conviction, and the room hums all night with the particular energy of a place where nobody looks like they're having a bad time.

Named for a mountain village in northern Italy where the owner's family is from, this American Italian bistro on North Davidson pulls off the old-country trattoria feel without any of the kitsch. The room is warm and unhurried, the wine list is exclusively Italian and organized by region, and the menu leans rustic, with pasta and daily specials doing most of the heavy lifting. The kind of neighborhood spot that feels like it has always been there.

The carts find you before you find your seat, which is how it works at this Flushing dim sum hall. Oversized round tables, ornate chandeliers, bamboo plants, and enough shumai to reconsider your weekend plans. No menu required; most regulars never open one. Weekends get loud and frenetic in a very satisfying way, so an early arrival is less a suggestion than a survival strategy. The Michelin Guide has it listed among their selected restaurants.

The name nods to NoDa's old textile-mill past, and the denim-covered banquettes keep the joke going without overdoing it. This is a Southern comfort restaurant with exposed beams, a lively counter, and a menu that leans into fried chicken, deviled eggs, and banana pudding served in a Mason jar. Weekend brunch draws a crowd, the draft beer list is long, and the tater tots are not something to wave away.

Two outdoor terraces hang over Lake Norman, which means half the dining room has a view that does most of the menu's heavy lifting. Hello Sailor is a laid-back lakeside seafood spot where PEI mussels and oysters with a glass of wine feel like the obvious move, though the wood-burning stove inside makes winter less of a sacrifice than it sounds. A Michelin Selected pick, it's the kind of neighborhood place that works for basically every occasion without trying too hard.

Spaghett serves a prix fixe of Italian-leaning plates inside a 19th-century house, one of those places where the olive-green walls and marble tables make you sit up straighter than your order warrants. It's a sit-down dinner, so dress like someone with a reservation. The little bar room runs its own show, and the menu follows regional farms, which is why the gnocchi changes its mind with the weather.

Rotating TV screens overhead walk you through the menu before you've even sat down, which sets the tone for this welcoming Indian restaurant on the east side of Phoenix. The family behind it grew up in the restaurant business back in India and brought that instinct for hospitality with them. Dosa arrives shattering crisp, the malai kofta is deeply comforting, and the staff nudges you toward something unfamiliar if you let them.

Dale Talde's Hong Kong-style restaurant sits inside a carriage house on a sprawling Hudson Valley estate, where the dining rooms look like someone inherited very good furniture and actually kept it. The menu runs kung pao wings alongside bao stuffed with crispy shrimp and daikon, the kind of cooking that's both nostalgic and quietly restless. Dressy-casual crowd, unhurried pace, and a setting that makes Tarrytown feel like a reasonable destination.

The carved wooden panels and semi-private booths signal that this is not your average strip-mall Chinese restaurant, even if the exterior gives nothing away. A full-service Chinese dining room in Hartsdale drawing multigenerational families on weekend nights, it runs classics like garlic-pepper shrimp and slow-cooked Beijing duck with real kitchen discipline. The chef earned a James Beard semifinalist nod, and the Michelin Guide has taken notice too.

The coffered wood ceiling and vintage frames make this downtown Pasadena bistro feel like someone airlifted a Parisian side street into Southern California. The chef has no interest in deconstructing the classics, which means Burgundy snails arrive glossy with herbed butter and duck à l'orange stays duck à l'orange. Order the soufflé for dessert; it takes time and it's supposed to. The Michelin Guide has it listed.

Purple walls, tatami tables on one side, and a menu that has no interest in what everyone else is doing right now. Roxanne is a small creative restaurant in South Philly where the chef named the place after her mother and mostly just wants to cook. The dishes are few and the seasoning is confident, duck arriving with a wedge of Stilton as if that were always the plan. It probably was.

The shucker behind the raw bar is working through a daily haul from North Carolina and beyond, which tells you everything about where the priorities lie. St. Roch is an oyster bar and bistro in a converted downtown clothing store, with Louisiana roots informing the menu: barbecue shrimp and grits on weekends, beignets to close. A Michelin Selected restaurant, and a James Beard semifinalist.

The Penrose Room is the top-floor fine dining room of The Broadmoor's south tower, and it operates on old-school opulence: Caesar salad and baked Alaska arrive tableside, and a Manhattan comes by on a trolley. Jackets are required for gentlemen in the main room, so pack accordingly. The chef was a James Beard semifinalist for Best Chef: Mountain, and the sushi section is a small nod to the present century.

La Vecindad means "the neighborhood," and the room commits to it, with a painted sky on the ceiling, string lights, and papel picado hanging over a casual, sit-down taqueria in the Historic Commercial Center. The menu is built for groups, so expect a platter of 50 street tacos and a torta stacked with so many meats that it reads less like a sandwich than a roll call. Come hungry and bring friends.

Rollin Smoke is a casual barbecue counter where hickory-smoked meats share the plate with hush puppies, fried okra, and dirty rice. The outlaw burger comes stacked so high with brisket, onion strings, and slaw that eating it politely is a rumor, and a sauce bar lets you add a Carolina vinegar squirt anyway. Picnic tables and a mural of a pastoral landscape do the decorating, which seems about right.

A converted university laundry building in a sleepy Tennessee college town is a perfectly odd home for one of the more talked-about New American restaurants in the country right now. The warehouse bones stay visible, but the room is warm and stylish, not industrial-chic as a pose. The menu leans into crowd-pleasing without apology, and the New York Times singled out the whole trout. Named for Sewanee's first female student, and the spirit carries.

Kirwan's is an Irish pub on the Wharf, all dark wood that wouldn't look out of place on a 17th-century naval vessel. Downstairs is for sports fans and conference lanyards pouring Guinness, while an upstairs mezzanine has a closed-off snug and a whiskey room tucked below for anyone who'd like their stout with fewer opinions shouted at it. Shepherd's pie and a spice bag are the order, entry-level pub prices apply.

Roman trattoria cooking in a room that manages to feel elegant without making you feel underdressed. Antica Pesa is the Brooklyn outpost of a Rome institution, and it takes the classics seriously enough to go well past the obvious ones. The wine list is long, the hospitality is warm in that old-country way, and a spot on the 50 Top Italy list for the world's best Italian restaurants suggests the room is doing something right across the river.

A few whole pies rotate under the heat lamps and slices go fast at this East Village slice shop on St. Marks, which lands at number 14 on the 50 Top Pizza Slice USA list. The model is straightforward: New York-style by the slice, cold beer, and no lingering decisions required. The dough is thin and foldable, and the topping hand is generous. More room than you'd expect for the neighborhood.

A Neapolitan-style pizza spot in central Tampa where the dough goes into a screaming-hot oven and comes out fast, blistered, and surprisingly light. The menu is short on purpose: a handful of starters, a tight selection of pies, and some desserts. Beer and wine on tap keep things casual and the bill manageable. It has landed on the 50 Top Pizza USA list, which is the sort of thing regulars probably mention while waiting for a table.

A pizzeria in San Luis Obispo where you can order your pie by the half meter or the full meter, which is a sentence that doesn't get old. Flour House does both Neapolitan and "a metro" style, the latter a tradition from the Sorrento Peninsula that arrives on a long wooden board and invites a crowd. Pasta and appetizers round out the menu, and a patio out front makes the whole thing feel like it landed here from somewhere warmer.

Neapolitan pizza in the Financial District, which sounds like a setup to a joke but works out fine. Kesté is a cozy pizza shop with a rustic dining room and outdoor tables that catch the downtown foot traffic on good days. The crust is the point: light, properly blistered, and topped without chaos. The wine and beer list is short enough that you won't agonize. Ranked 21st on 50 Top Pizza USA.

Neapolitan-style pizza on the Pacific Coast Highway, where the crust stays soft and just barely charred at the rim, the way it should. This southern Italian restaurant keeps things unfussy: good product, warm service, a room that feels festive without trying too hard. It landed at number 25 on 50 Top Pizza USA, which tracks for a place where the pizza tastes like the owner is proving a point about where they're from.

Sourdough Neapolitan pizza in a cozy Bushwick spot where the lighting is dim enough to feel intentional and the wine list is longer than the beer list, which tells you something about the room. The crust is light and genuinely digestible, as opposed to the kind that sits with you on the subway home. Ranked in the 50 Top Pizza USA, if that's the sort thing you track. The veranda is lovely until it isn't.

A seafood osteria on Sixth Avenue that also happens to be a caffè, bakery, pasta lab, and gelateria, which could easily be a mess but somehow feels like a well-run corner of northern Italy. The kitchen leans on pristine fish and vegetables, with a nod toward Japanese technique that earns its place rather than announcing itself. Raw preparations are a reason to linger, and the wine list keeps markups reasonable. Ranked 34th on 50 Top Italy's list of Italian restaurants worldwide.

Detroit-style pizza comes out of the oven as a thick, airy square with a crispy, caramelized undercarriage, and Palazzo di Pizza has quietly become one of the better places in the country to eat one. It ranked tenth on 50 Top Pizza's national slice list, which for a suburban Royal Oak shop is a notable thing. The pepperoni option, layered under the cheese and sauce in true Detroit fashion, is the move.

Roberta's slice shop in the Penn District finishes each slice after the oven, adding basil, chili oil, or honey depending on what you ordered, which sounds fussy until you see how well it works. The long communal table inside spills out to Penn Plaza and connects up to a rooftop, so the format is grab-and-go but the footprint is not. The Bee Sting, with soppressata and honey, is the one regulars seem to circle back to.

A seafood buffet at the Palms, where locals drive off the Strip and the real event is Wednesday and Thursday lobster nights. Stations stack up with bright red tails, and you work through them with melted butter and a bucket for the wreckage. Dinner runs a bit north of forty dollars, so wear something that forgives butter, and plan the rest of your day around it like a sensible person.

This is a small, family-run Northeast Chinese spot in a Chandler strip mall, where one wall is so thickly framed with press clippings that the decor doubles as a reading list. The dumplings are handmade in assorted shapes and sizes, and the soup dumplings arrive with chewy skins and scalding broth, so patience is a skill here. Order at a casual counter pace, wear whatever, and bring someone who'll split the cumin lamb.

Garden Buffet sits inside South Point, a good half hour south of the Strip, so the clientele skews toward locals who know where the prime rib is pink. It feels more like a neighborhood diner than a casino cafeteria, with servers who bring your drinks so you can stay put between shrimp runs. Six live stations cover everything from Mongolian bowls to wings tossed to order, and Eater and The Infatuation both list it among the city's best buffets.

This is a resort buffet out in Summerlin, priced in the low thirties and organized around rotating theme nights. Aloha night brings oxtail stew and a whole roasted suckling pig, while fiesta night lets you build a nacho situation that Taco Bell would recognize as kin. Because it's mostly locals, the Strip's plate-piling stampede never shows up, and you can finish with warm churros dunked in chocolate sauce.

This is a casual, family-friendly Neapolitan pizzeria in Summerlin, with timber tables and a wood-fired oven that blisters each pie in just over a minute. The dough is thin and chewy and folds a little under its toppings, so you eat it with your hands and don't apologize. There's also a pear and jalapeño pie with no tomato sauce, which Naples would find alarming. Wear whatever you like, nobody is dressing up for pizza.

The two-pound super burrito here is less a meal than a diplomatic incident, and in a neighborhood where everyone has a strong opinion about where to get one, Taqueria Cancún has been holding its ground forever. This is a taqueria on Mission Street: counter service, line out the door on weekend nights, foil-wrapped torpedoes that have put more than a few people to sleep on the bus home. The breakfast burrito with chorizo and eggs is the move if you catch it early.

This is a classic Vegas buffet, the kind with marble counters, smoked salmon spirals, and enough seating for 600 hungry people who have pre-paid for their ambition. Expect a carving station, pizza with dough from a nearby Spago, and sushi, all at a price that makes a mid-priced casino steakhouse look reasonable. It's a morning-to-mid-afternoon affair, so dress for comfort and plan to skip dinner.

This is the buffet at The Cosmopolitan, and its whole personality is built around the morning after. Waffles, crunchy fried chicken, and crab legs juicy enough to turn the plate into a splash zone all appear, along with a salad bar that holds its own. Plenty of dishes come pre-portioned in little bowls, which spares shaky hands the humiliation of a slippery serving spoon. Come hungry, come dehydrated, and don't dress up.